


A Wrinkle in Time

by PencilTrash



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Baby Derek, De-Aged Derek, Fluff, Kid Derek, Kid Fic, M/M, Sterek Week 2016, Teen Derek, Young Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-22 08:30:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8279554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PencilTrash/pseuds/PencilTrash
Summary: “But Deaton, how do we change him back?”“I don't know, Scott.”“Does this potion contain wolfs bane?”“A little.”“What?! But he's… he is... ” Stiles watched as Scott struggled for the correct word, totally freaking out, and gestured at the twitching blanket in Cora’s hold. “... so small,” Scott murmured after a beat.Stiles let out a heavy sigh. He strained his neck to get a better look at him, his lips curving a little when the two tiny hands peeked out from the edge of the blanket and tried to grab a gleaming stud on Cora’s dress.“Aha, d’you like it, baby bro?” Cora cooed at the baby, rounding her painted lips for unnecessary cuteness, as if that would work. He might be a baby, but in there, somewhere, he was still  Derek Hale for god's sake.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [redeyedwrath](https://archiveofourown.org/users/redeyedwrath/gifts).



> * A birthday gift to my bro, Isaac <3  
> * Thank you [Jonjo](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Jonjo), [Benaya](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Benaya) for the beta work/ read through. You guys are amazing! <3  
> * My entry for SterekWeek2016.  
> 

“But Deaton, how do we change him back?”

“I don't know, Scott.”

“Does this potion contain wolfsbane?”

“A little.”

“What?! But he's… he is... ” Stiles watched as Scott struggled for the correct word, totally freaking out, and gestured at the twitching blanket in Cora’s hold. “... so small,” Scott murmured after a beat.

Stiles let out a heavy sigh. He strained his neck to get a better look at him, his lips curving a little when the two tiny hands peeked out from the edge of the blanket and tried to grab a gleaming stud on Cora’s dress.

“Aha, d’you like it, baby bro?” Cora cooed at the baby, rounding her painted lips for unnecessary cuteness, as if that would work. He might be a baby, but in there, somewhere, he was still _Derek Hale for god's sake_.

The next moment, the baby started wailing at the top of his lungs. Stiles smirked, proud at his prompt prediction. Scott was shouting something in his ear, but the distressed baby was a way too much of distraction to continue researching the goddamn witches and their possible motives for turning Derek Hale into a teeny-tiny child. At least, Derek would take something home from this episode, like not to barge his perfect ass in on unknown supernaturals, alone, with only a simple group text - _It's a witch. I got this_.

He looked at the shrieking baby. Yeah, Derek totally got this.

“Uh-Huh,” Stiles nodded, agreeing to whatever Deaton was saying. Anyways, the man was adamant and, for a change, seriously trying to fix the situation. After all, it was his homemade potion which had transformed almost dead naked Derek into a wailing but pretty much alive Derek - Baby Derek - and Stiles had no complaints whatsoever. His heart had almost stopped at the disturbingly familiar sight of Derek all sprawled on the forest floor, fatally injured and unmoving. For a crazy moment, Stiles had thought - _this is it._

It was Erica’s voice that pulled him from his thoughts.

“I think he's hungry,” she declared. Right, the universal law when any baby cried.

“We just fed him the baby cereal,” thankfully, Lydia retorted.

“Um, then check his diaper.”

“Yep, all clear,” Allison confirmed.

The baby’s hysterical cries started cutting through his ear drums and he was sure, doing much worse to all the werewolves with their sensitive ears.

“Eeeeeeee,” Cora shrieked, tilting her head in an attempt to cover her ear with her shoulder, jostling the baby dangerously in the process.

“Jesus Christ, Cora!” Stiles rushed towards them. “Just give him to me.”

Maybe surprised by his sudden movement when he literally snatched the baby from Cora’s loosening grip, the baby immediately stopped crying.

He looked up at Stiles with his wide, green eyes, dark eyebrows distinct against his flushed chubby face, and a downturn curve of those little pink lips matched well with his adult grumpy face. Stiles’ smile spread into a full grin. He was definitely one of the prettiest babies he'd ever seen. Not that he'd come across many, but still, Baby Derek was a cutie.

“Hey, buddy.” He gently tapped his index finger against those pouty lips till the baby giggled. “There you go. Feeling sleepy, eh?” He adjusted his hold around the baby, rocking him gently. Baby Derek blinked at him, making gurgling sounds in his throat in complete agreement. “Al-right then,” Stiles chirped, “Have no fear when Stiles’ here.” He held him upright, close to his chest, curling his fingers around the back of the baby’s neck, caressing him and supporting him in a warm embrace.

“Oh my god, Stiles. He stopped crying,” Allison squealed. “You're so good.”

“Nah,” Cora protested, eyes flicking between her now relaxed brother and Stiles. She had been pretty much in charge of Baby Derek up till then and looked pissed that Stiles was hijacking him like this. “It's just that Stiles smells like Grandma Marcia… all citrus and mint and junk food,” she grumbled, but didn't fight Stiles. “She was Derek’s favorite, y'know?”

This was a brand new piece of information and Stiles wasn't sure how to digest it, he was definitely taken aback. He'd hardly given a thought to how he actually smelled to anyone and definitely not to Derek.

“O-Kay.” He took a moment to chill and breathed and eventually, strolled towards the living room couch. He settled down with the baby on his stomach, arms locked around the kid, eyes drooping as he listened to the rhythmic sound of Baby Derek's snoring.

Grandma Marcia. Right.

  
  


******

  
  


Of course, he shouldn't have trusted Deaton.

He realized this when he woke up to a solid kick in the gut from an eight year old.

 _What the fucking fuck_ , was his first thought of the day which wasn't a good start. At all.

And of course, he was now on babysitting duty for an eight - and a half, as the boy insisted - year old Derek Hale.

 _Stiles, you're so good with kids. Stiles, he likes you. Stiles, he only likes you -_ they  had all praised him, as if he didn't know that the majority of them had plans for a Saturday date.

But, he'd decided to give them a break. The pack had been patrolling the Beacon Hills border the whole night, looking for the witch, while Stiles was comfortably napping with the baby. Also, his idea of a Saturday date usually involved sprawling on various pieces of furniture in Derek's loft, pretending to complete his homework while Derek cooked him pancakes wearing one of those thumbhole sweaters, those devastatingly soft-looking thumbhole sweaters. Ugh...

So this Saturday wouldn’t be any different.

He was still sprawled out on the armchair in the loft and, technically, was still with Derek Hale. Meanwhile the boy played with his supply of new toy cars making nonstop _vroom vroom_ sounds which were, by the way, irritating.

It definitely wasn’t a date in any goddamn sense.

Stiles would agree though, the kid Derek was pretty decent.

The boy washed his dish and helped Stiles fold the clothes. He scanned all the big books from Derek’s personal library with an adorable wrinkle on his forehead. When Stiles tried to convince him with some time travel story to justify him being there, the boy simply said - _You're lying_ \- and asked nothing more.

Stiles offered him a box of crayons and he invested an entire hour coloring in a bunch of random figures, men and women and kids and cats, and scribbled _My Family_ on the top.

He took another hour to elaborate to Stiles about every single one of them. They were fifteen in all.

“Hey, kiddo,” Stiles interrupted Derek's rumbling. He _had_ to. Listening to the boy talk about his deceased family members was making his chest tight. “Let's go outside, okay?” he literally pleaded.

Derek agreed without a protest, being so open and naive and in no way like his adult self who had zillions of trust issues. Stiles thought, he might not survive the day.

They went to the park.

Derek raced with other kids on the swings, betting on who was going highest. He helped a toddler on a slide and made Stiles wonder how good Derek must have been with his four younger cousins. He dived into the sandbox to build sand castles, chuckling throughout even though they broke multiple times, till the sand covered every inch of his face and clothes.

Stiles was in a daze. He’d never imagined any version of Derek Hale could be this _happy_.

On their way back, they stopped dead at the sight of a long snake coiled up right in the middle of the narrow road.

Derek screamed. “Do _something_!”

“What?! You’re the wolf here,” Stiles croaked without moving his eyes from the creature who was flicking its forked tongue out at them. He clutched at the boy’s hand, moving in front of him instinctively.

From behind Stiles’ back Derek peeked at the snake. “But… I’m just eight-”

“... and a half,” Stiles reminded him. “C’mon big guy, flash him your fangs. Show him who’s the boss.”

“I can’t shift back if I wolf out.”

“Sure, you can.”

“No, I can’t. I don’t have an anchor yet.”

Stiles let out an exasperated sound. “I’ll help you, okay?” he babbled without actually giving it much thought, his free hand flailing everywhere, especially at the snake. ”Just- _do it_.”

He yelped as the snake hissed at him and finally, _finally_ Derek roared, which came out nothing better than a tiny _meow_.

But, it worked.

“Was that good?” Derek asked, his face spit into a toothy grin at seeing the snake slither away quietly.

“Yeah,” Stiles huffed out, his heart still hammering. “That was _awesome._ ” He raised his hands in triumph and ruffled Derek’s hair. That was when he noticed Derek’s still pointing ears. “Oh boy.”

“Told ya… can’t shift back,” Derek lisped through his elongated fangs, looking up at Stiles. His face was crumpled with worry, beads of sweat lining his forehead.

“No probs, dude.” Stiles crouched down in front Derek, meeting his height. “We can fix this,” Stiles reassured, placing his hands in front of Derek.

The boy stared at them, looking wary and uncertain only for a fraction of a second. He lifted his clawed hands and settled them on Stiles’ offered palms without uttering a single word. His eyes fluttered close.

“Take a deep breath,” Stiles closed his own eyes for extra effect. He rolled his shoulders, twisted his head side to side, just to pass a little more time, desperately praying it to work. “Now… focus on something,” he asked Derek.

There was a momentary silence and Derek didn’t respond.

Stiles cracked his one eye open, squinting at the boy who still had his eyes shut and face uncharacteristically calm. “Uh, d’you hear anything?”

Derek hummed, sounding lost. “... your heartbeat.”

“That - that’s _great_ ,” Stiles stuttered, unsure of how to react to this. He tried to keep his thudding heart in control, suddenly feeling conscious.

It took Derek a whole five minutes to concentrate and shift to his human self and when the kid opened his eyes again, his face was all sunshine and awestruck.

And, Stiles was still freaking out that Derek had actually transformed back listening to _his heartbeat_.

  


*******

  


On the lazy Sunday morning, Stiles startled awake to the sound of a screeching howl.

The howl of a young wolf.

Deaton’s potions weren't working. There was no news from Chris Argent or his father on weird activities in the town to help them track down the witch. The entire pack was worried and had literally camped in Derek's loft on Sunday.

When they all rushed towards the source - Derek’s bedroom - rubbing the sleep off of their eyes, tired and barely awake, the room looked as if it had been hit by a tornado. In a whirl of flying papers and a pile of clawed furniture and a shattered table lamp they found Derek - possibly sixteen, seventeen at most - scooted up into one corner of the room, curled up against the wall like a scared pup.

Derek wolfed out, flashing his golden-yellow eyes at the strangers advancing towards him. He stiffened when Scott stepped closer. His stance becoming alert, eyes tripping over everyone, one by one, narrowing when they caught sight of something to the left of Stiles.

“Cora...” Derek whispered, the tense lines of his shoulders suddenly slackening.

Cora barged inside, dropping to the floor in front of Derek. “Yes, it's me.” She hesitated a little, checking for his reaction. Her hand hovered near his cheek without touching.

Derek looked at her, wide eyed, probably noticing the difference in her features for the first time. But he raised his hand, fingers curling around hers. “Cora,” he muttered again. “But… but you-”

Derek's words were left unfinished as Cora lunged forward and wrapped him in a tight hug. ”Shhh, it's me, Derek. You're okay. I'll explain. I'll explain everything. Calm down _please.”_

Stiles gaped at them for a moment, both the Hales looked so vulnerable and gentle and not like their usual brooding selves. But he couldn't help but duck his head and skitter out of the room to give them some privacy.

Stiles didn't know how Cora convinced him, but Derek settled down eventually, pretty well in fact.

He didn't refuse when Allison asked him to accompany her on her morning run. When they returned, Derek was teasing her about something in French, probably about Scott, smiling and elbow nudging like they were old pal.

He immediately clicked with Boyd, no surprise there. Stiles was convinced that Boyd was even older Derek's favorite. They both exercised in Derek's gym, lifting the heavy weights and bulging their ridiculous biceps. God, it was a pure torture.

Scott and Isaac pulled him out for a basketball match. Stiles thought about teaming up with Derek, but decided against it when they all wolfed out and blasted two balls. When Derek easily kicked both of their asses, they took him for a treat in the ice cream parlor to celebrate his victory. Derek gulped down four cones, biting them like they were chicken pieces and Stiles felt sorry for his poor throat while he shamelessly watched Derek eat.

In the loft, of course Derek flicked through the books again and chatted with Lydia over a cup of too sweet coffee about a cliched romantic novel for a whole thirty minutes.

He bonded with Jackson over their mutual love for some branded hair gel, which Jackson never dared to share with older Derek. He even dug out his stock of toiletries and offered Jackson to try some.

In the evening, when Erica struggled with her shoe straps in her too tight dress, Derek attentively knelt down on the floor and tied them for her. Later, Erica shared her pudding with Derek, noteable because Erica shared her pudding with no one, not even Boyd. Erica was prepared to kill over a pudding.

The sun was set and the moon rose higher in the sky. Looking at the pattern of the previous two days, Stiles was positive that this would again be a one day thing. He couldn't help but whine over the fact that while the entire pack had had their fair share of time to get to know _this_ Derek, Stiles was still waiting.

After dinner, Derek asked him to join him for a walk.

“So… ” Derek shoved his hands deeper inside his pant pockets, enjoying the chill from the night breeze. He kept walking and Stiles tagged along. “Have I killed your cat or something?” he asked suddenly.

“Wh-” Stiles choked. “What? Why?”

“Hey, it's nothing actually.” Derek looked at him, his pretty face pinched with concern. “I, uh - well everyone was with me the whole day and you were just… watching.” He paused for a beat. “Am I _that bad_ in future?”

“No!” Stiles exclaimed, voice higher than necessary. He didn’t want Derek to misunderstand his distant pinning. “You're _fine_.” he corrected him.

“Oh, okay.” Derek nodded.

They continued their walk. Stiles could feel a heavy weight of awkward silence in the air. And, he got that typical urgent urge to talk more.

“Well, you're _great_ in fact… and kind and have that soft heart which you try to cover beneath your scowl. But, dude, you've no idea that people can actually see right through you…”

Well, when Stiles got an urgent urge to talk, he could barely stop himself.

He kept talking to Derek- about Derek - until he noticed they’d reached the loft and watched Derek mischievously smiling at him.

Stiles stopped. “What?” he asked, eyes narrowing.

Derek ducked his head, shaking it, trying to hide his spreading grin.

“What?” Stiles repeated, slapping Derek's arm with a back of his hand. “C’mon, tell me.”

“You're totally in love with _him_.”

Stiles’ brain shut down at that. He wasn't prepared for this. He stopped walking, glued on the spot.

He didn't refute it. Hell yeah, he was in love with Derek. Had been for years.

“Don't worry though,” Derek's smile turned from teasing to something soft. The next moment, he leaned in, placing a quick kiss on Stiles’ burning cheek. Then, immediately stepped back, locking his beautiful hazel eyes with Stiles’. “You're totally my type.”

Stiles’ jaw almost dropped to the floor.

Derek winked at him, leaving Stiles flabbergasted as he entered the loft, whistling.

  
  


******

  
  
  


“Ain't you supposed to get ready for the school today?” They all woke to Derek's loud growl.

“Derek?”

“H-oly shit!”

“You're back.”

It was chaos as everyone scrambled to their feet from wherever they'd crashed the night before.

Derek scowled at them. Of course, he was back.

Isaac was the first one to reach Derek and _boy_ , he flung his arms around Derek’s neck and squeezed him in a tight hug, knocking the air out of him. Erica followed, hugging them both. Everyone circled around, whooping and howling.

Derek was lost, dumbfounded at this sudden display of overflowing joy and love.

And, when Stiles moved into his personal space, muttering a smug “Welcome back”, leaning in swiftly, and placed a smacking peck on Derek’s cheek, Derek blinked at him for whole three minutes.

“You owe me one,” Stiles shrugged and Derek blinked some more. Jesus Christ,  Stiles was totally going to take Derek on a date this Saturday.

A _real_ date.

 

**Author's Note:**

> * Comments/Kudos are gold!! They keeps motivating me to write more  
> 


End file.
